Heart of the Wolf: Shattering Sunrise
by Jayfeattheris Awesome
Summary: In the darkness, the rising sun will break and bring the starlight to fall. As despair comes to pass, the horizon will rise on the mountain stone. When the water runs dry, the blizzard will rage. When all seems lost, at the end of all things, the cold wind will hold the fate of Middle-Earth." Friendships will be made, hopes will be shattered...and a prophecy will be fulfilled.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

_Long ago, before the dwarves took up residence in the Lonely Mountain, there lived on the mountain sides a mighty breed of creature, noble and powerful, watching over the mountain with eyes that could see through to the hearts of the evil. They were the Wolves of Lonely Order ,capable of speech and deeds that lay forgotten in time._

_The members of this noble species were no dumb beasts that thought of nothing but killing, but creatures with a sense of honor, and were capable of loyalty that went beyond that of even a royal guard dog._

_In the battle against Sauron, The Wolves of the Lonely Order, or better known as Ereborians, fought alongside the men and elves as a small taskforce with the single purpose of getting into Mordor's deeper lands and approach the enemy from behind. However, the enemy had been prepared._

_The wolves were slain by the dozens, and were forced to retreat away from the battle, for they knew that if they stayed, the extinction of their species would be eminent. They fled, forced to leave the bodies of their dead behind, and they have not been seen since._

_But, they days are growing darker. The western skies are getting redder, and a prophecy delivered years ago during the nearing of the end of the rein of Smaug, comes nearer to revealing itself. And soon, the Wolves of Erebor must run again, or all will be lost._

_" In the darkness, the rising sun will break and bring the starlight to fall. As despair comes to pass, the horizon will rise on the mountain stone. When the water runs dry, the blizzard will rage. When all seems lost, at the end of all things, the cold wind will hold the fate of Middle-Earth."_

_These words spoken to me by Galadriel during my quest to the Lonely Mountain with the dwarfs have begun of late to echo in my dreams. They can signify nothing but disaster, and, with the echoes growing louder with each passing night as I make my way to the Shire, I cannot help but feel that a storm is coming… And soon it must break._


	2. The Wolves of Erebor

**Yes I do realize that there is some confusion here, But this is the remake of Heart of The Wolf. I realized that the prophecy was way too obvious and cheesy, so I redid it. To those of you who remember the old version of the prophecy, please don't give away any spoilers. I would LOVE to see more reviews, and I would like some Wolf OC's for later in the story. One OC per person: that's right, Brightcloud, i'm looking at you! Also, I need one more dragonet name, and five wind dragon names for Wings of Storm: Palace of Lies. I know Brightcloud submitted some good ones, but she submitted more than one name, so I have to disqualify some of hers, since she submitted more than one. So, Dragon names, Read the fic, and I'm done here.**

The Wolves of Erebor

"The hobbit will be fine, yes. He will need a few days to recover, but the poison is gone." Elrond told a man with an incredibly long beard. " You do realize that it will never completely heal? He will have it with him most of his life."

"Yes I know." The old man replied.

"You also realize that the ring cannot stay here. Sauron's forces are massing, his eye is fixed on Rivendell. The ring cannot stay in Rivendell." The elf continued.

The man was silent for a few moments, and then spoke in a quieter voice; what he had to say was not for all ears. " How long has it been since you sent for the Lonebud juice?" he asked.

"It has been over a year, Gandalf. They should be arriving in three days' time with it. It is a long journey, and I hope that they have not lost any of their cargo. I've alerted the lookouts not to shoot when they see them, so that they aren't mistaken as hostile forces." The elf replied in a similar quiet voice.

"Good," Gandalf said," then they should be able to spare a few days for the meeting, should they not?"

Elrond nodded in agreement, and then spoke. " They will need some time, of coarse, to recover their strength. It could not have been an easy journey."

Suddenly, a horn sounded in the air. Gandalf smiled. "That would be the Gondorian, would it not?" he chuckled. They looked down to the gate, and saw a man with red hair and cloths with the White Tree of Gondor on them ride into the clearing. Soon behind him rode an elf with pale blond hair and a brown cloak.

Soon after them came the dwarfs, some very old looking. They gathered on a stone balcony and began to chat, waiting for the meeting to begin. The doors opened, and everybody murmured with surprise when a hobbit with curly black hair walked in with Gandalf the Gray.

" …didn't know that a hobbit was attending the meeting!"

"…rare to see them outside of the Shore…Sheer… Shire… Whatever that place is called."

"… really excellent cooks, I hear." Where just a few things that were murmured around the clearing as the hobbit sat down on a small chair.

Then, the company went silent as a sound cut through the air, beautiful and rich like a mixture between a flute and a hum. It wasn't loud, but the tone was pure, as if whoever was making it had master only the most graceful tones.

Elrond sat up from his chair. "So the Wolves of Erebor have come." He said.

Everybody looked at each other, then rushed to the end of the balcony and peered over the edge to look at the front gate. Three figure could be seen bounding gracefully through the trees down the slope to the gate, their powerful muscles rippling underneath sleek, soft fur. They were wolves. Not nasty, raggedy creatures. Their fur was fluffy and well-groomed, and their muzzles were unbitten by ticks or fleas, as if the creatures actually cared for personal hygiene.

To those of the company who had seen a warg before, the wolves down in the clearing were a little bigger than a normal wolf, yet not as large a warg. The wolves each had a harness of leather on them, with chainmail between some of the straps to protect their chest and the back of their necks. There were two small pouches on either side of the harness of each wolf, appearing to each have a small bottle in each pack.

Several elves went down to meet the wolfs, going to each creature in turn and relieving them of their burden. They watched as the wolves lay down on their sides to let the elves unstrap and remove the harnesses. Once the harnesses were off, the wolves rolled back over and dipped their heads to the elves, then turned to leave. They were about to pass through the gate when Elrond appeared, having somehow left while the rest of the company were watching the wolves.

He called them back, and beckoned with his hand for them to follow him. The wolves looked at each other, then followed. "What do you suppose he's doing? He's gotta be mad to let a wolf into Rivendell, let alone three of them that are such a size!" one of the dwarfs said.

"They are no mere wolves, Gimli, son of Gloin." Gandalf told him.

A few moments later, Elrond walked through the door to the balcony, and, one by one, the three wolves followed him in. Now much closer, the company was shocked to see the pelts of the wolves. The first wolf was a female, and her pelt was an unusual color indeed. Her face was the color of fire mixed with gold, and the farther down her body one looked, the color transferred subtly into gold. In the full light of the rising sun, her fur was outlined with golden fire.

The second wolf was a pure white female. Well, mostly pure white. Her face was black in an unusual pattern. A spike of black went down her muzzle, and two other spikes of black separated to run over her eyes and curved to the base of her ears. A third spike of black sprouted out of the middle where the two other spikes separated, and the point ended at her forehead.

The third wolf walked in, and was a little less remarkable as the first two. His pelt was midnight black, and his eyes were a shocking electric blue.

The wolves padded onto the balcony, their eyes wary, as if they didn't trust anyone they saw before them. Gandalf stepped forward to greet the lead wolf, the golden female. "Greetings, Dawn. I believe you don't remember, seeing as you were only a pup last time we met." He greeted her.

Dawn narrowed her eyes and looked Gandalf up and down, as if assessing him. Then, to the surprise of almost all of the company (except for Elrond and Gandalf, as well as the blond elf and Gloin), she spoke. "So… you are Gandalf the Gray. My mother spoke of you many times when she told us of her adventures with the dwarfs. She said you were old then. I would have expected you to have died by the time I had my pups." The she-wolf spoke at last.

Gandalf, looking a little offended, gave her a withering look. " Lets just say, I'm older than I look." He told her. " are you going to introduce us to your friends here?" he asked after a moment.

The she-wolf nodded. "Of course. This is my son, Night," she said waving her tail in the direction of the black wolf, who dipped his head to him as his name was spoken," and my daughter, Frost." She pointed her muzzle in the white she-wolf's direction, and she dipped her head as her brother had done.

Then, Frost spoke up. "We were told that we were making a delivery, not attending a meeting. So why gather us now?" she inquired.

It was Elrond's turn to speak "Everybody take a seat, and we will discuss this. True, you were called here to make an important delivery, though I will not mention the cargo, and I thank you for making the year-long journey to get here. Frodo. The ring." He said, calling the hobbit, who was obviously Frodo, to set down a golden ring down on the pedestal in the center of the balcony.

Everybody looked intrigued by it, but the wolves couldn't tell why. Dawn felt a chill of foreboding run along her spine. _This ring is evil_, the thought, and decided to break the silence with a question that she longed to have answered. "What is it? I can tell that it's evil, but what in the name of Lupus is it?" she asked.

" It is a ring, Dawn, daughter of River. A ring of such great power and evil that it has a mind of it's own." Elrond answered. Every hair on Dawn's pelt stood up in alarm, and she locked her gaze on the ring, as if she felt that it might attack her at any moment, and the other wolves seemed to feel the same way.

"It cannot harm you physically, but it takes you over mentally, makes you turn against those you know, turns your mind inside out." Gandalf reassured her, though she didn't much like the image he was giving her. Suddenly, a part of a story popped into her head, one that her mother had told her.

"Like Gollem?" she suggested. Gandalf stiffened.

"Yes, like Gollem." he told her.

The clearing went silent for a few moments, and then Gimli spoke up. " Well, if the thing is so much trouble, why don't we get on with destroying it?" he said. He unsheathed his axe, and, with a battle cry, rushed forward and slammed it onto the ring. There was a flash of sparks as the blade met the ring, and the wolves gave a small jump backward as the axe shattered into pieces, and the dwarf was set flying backwards, surprise written all over his face.

"The ring cannot be destroyed with an axe, Gimli. It was made in the fires of Mount Doom, and only there can it be un-made." Elrond said. "One of you must do this." He continued.

The clearing was silent for a few minutes, and then the red-haired Gondorian spoke. " One does not simply walk into Mordor. Not with ten thousand men could you storm the black gates successfully, and there are more dangers that lie in Mordor than just orcs. The great eye, is always watching, never blinking, never sleeping." He said.

The blond elf spoke up now. " There is no other choice. Somebody has to do it, or all will be lost" he said.

"And I'll suppose you'll be the one to do it?" Gimli snapped at him with un-hidden hostility. " I'd rather die, than see the ring in the hands of an elf!" he yelled.

With that, everybody got up, and started arguing. Dawn and the wolves shrank back, their ears flat on their heads. Dawn's fur pricked with discomfort._ It seems that Gandalf was right about the ring turning people against each other_, she thought.

Then, Frodo, who had not joined in the arguments, stood up and yelled something, thought Dawn could not tell what he said through the arguing. She tipped her muzzle to the sky, and let loose a howl that pierced through the air, and silenced the company. She gestured to Frodo with her muzzle to continue with what he was saying.

The hobbit gave her a grateful glance, and then repeated what he had said. "I will take the ring to Mordor." He announced.

Gandalf slowly closed his eyes and turned around, as if he had been fearing that the hobbit would offer to complete the task. " Then you will need a friend. I will come with you, Frodo Baggins, and serve to my best." He said and stood next to the hobbit.

Dawn flicked her ears to her companions and looked at them. Both wolves nodded, and with that, Dawn led her wolves to stand in front of Frodo. She lowered her head and stretched out one foreleg in a bow. " You shall have our teeth, our claws, and our loyalty." She vowed, then sat in between Frost and Night behind Frodo.

" And mine as well, beside the tooth and claw part." Aragorn said, taking a place near the hobbit.

The Gondorian also swore his allegiance and took a place behind the hobbit..

"And you shall have my bow." The elf said, also standing near Frodo.

With a glance around, Gimli stepped forward as well. " And my axe." He proclaimed, doing similar to the others.

"Frodo!" a shout sounded in the air as a hobbit with red, curly hair dashed out from a hiding spot and joined the others.

"It seems that it is impossible to separate you two, even when he is summoned to a secret meeting and you are not." Elrond said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Oi! We're coming too! " Identical voices said at the same time, and two _more_ hobbits dashed out from behind some nearby pillars to join the others.

Elrond looked over them all, surprise in his gaze at how many had offered to aid the young hobbit. "Twelve companions." he murmured. " Very well then. You will be the Fellowship of the ring."

The clearing once again fell temporarily silent, until broken by the voice of one of the front most hobbits. "All right then. Where are we going?" he inquired, and the hobbit next to him gave him a hopeless glance.

Dawn looked to the sky, and a cold breezed passed over the clearing. In the winds, she though she could hear a voice whispering a long-lost tale that had been forgotten in the tides and winds of the ages.

_The prophecy has come. _


	3. Dark Dreams and Cold Stories

Dark Dreams and Cold Times

_There was nothing but choking blackness. All around him, there was a sickly orc stench so thick, he could hardly breath. He heard the all the orcs' screams and gurgles, mixed in with the sound of what seemed to be wind, yet he could not feel any breeze._

_Suddenly, Legolas heard a screech of anguish cut through the air. He whirled around notching an arrow into his bow, ready to let it loose. He saw Dawn bent over a lump of black fur that was stained russet with blood. It was Night. Before he could do anything, Dawn launched herself at the nearest orc with such a force that the impact snapped it's spine. At the same time, the orc held up it's sword, impaling the she-wolf as it died._

_Legolas turned his head away, not wanting to see the gory scene that had unfolded before him. _

_Soon, he wished that he hadn't looked away, for upon doing so, he saw that the hobbits lay dead a few feet away. He heard Gimli shout a battle cry, and turned in time to see him rush past into the gang of orcs that where tearing apart the bodies of Night and Dawn. He tried to shout a warning to the dwarf as he passed, but it was already too late, and soon the son of Gloin joined Night and Dawn as a victim of the bloody battle._

_Looking beyond the horrible scene and trying(but failing) to block out Gimli's dying screams, Legolas saw Aragorn vanish under a flood of orcs, and yet more blood ripped into the starless night. Then, another cry reached his ears, almost drowned out by the orcs. " Help me! Someone please! Help me!" whirling around to face the source of the desperate wail, he saw Frost backed into a hole in an ancient, ruined wall. Orcs were swarming around her, jabbing at her with swords and spears, though they could not reach her because of a long overhang above the hole._

_He rushed forward to try to reach her, only to trip over something that was not there before. He rolled over and turned his head to see what had tripped him up, and saw, to his horror, Boromir. The Gondorian was pinned to the ground by an orc arrow that had gone through his forehead, and blood trickled down his face. Then he heard a growl, and looked up to see a large orc just about to bring it's sword down on him. He raised an arm in a vain attempt to protect himself, and heard a long, drawn-out wail from Frost that seemed far away, echoing into the background as the blade came down on him, and everything went dark. _

Legolas woke with a start, unsheathing his knife as he did so, alert and ready to fight. He looked around. The hobbits were all in a row, sleeping peacefully. Boromir had woken up, and was tending the fire a little. Aragorn and Gimli were sound asleep, and Dawn and Frost were curled up next to each other with their pelts fluffed out to keep warm. He could hear Gandalf snoring( Which was no surprise, it was _loud_)

He looked to the large boulder that overlooked their small encampment, which Aragorn had climbed up on to keep first watch. Now, several hours had passed, and Night's black figure blotted out several stars. Legolas shivered, remembering the young wolf's blood-stained body. _I'm very glad it was a dream_, he thought to himself. The wolves were a light-hearted trio, and the Hobbits were particularly fond of Dawn, who had a very gentle but fierce nature( which was good, because _somebody_ had to keep Merry and Pippin in check, for Sam had told the company that the two of them were well known for trouble-making in their hometown)

He got up and stretched. There was no way he could get back to sleep tonight after a dream like that. He went over to the watch rock to take the rest of Night's watch. He might as well be useful now that he was awake. " You go get some rest. I'll take the rest of the watch. " he told the wolf.

The Ereborian leapt down to the ground with a thump, and went to join his mother and sister to sleep. As he sat alone on the rock in the dark, Legolas felt a sense of foreboding shiver down his back. It had been one quarter moon since they had set out from Rivendell, according to Dawn, and so far, things had gone quite smoothly. They had had little interruption so far, save a rainstorm that had took place three day ago. He could not help but feel that they had had very good luck to get off at such a fast pace, but that soon their luck would run out.

As he usually found with most things that required a great deal of good luck, the previously mentioned good luck did not last for very long, and usually ran out when one needed it the most.

Soon, the horizon crept up the sky, and the company began to wake. Frost was the first wolf to be up, and she prodded the rest of the company awake. Night stretched his forepaws out in front of him like a cat, and then flexed his hind legs. Powerful muscles rippled under the fur on his haunches and shoulders, suggesting that he was a powerful runner.

Dawn was sitting on her hind legs, licking the ruffled bits of fur down on her pelt. Legolas noticed that as she licked, some of the fur fell off, and she would have to spit it out. Pippin was first to bring this up.

"Hey, Dawn? Why is so much of your fur falling out?" he asked her.

" Oh, there is a very simple explanation to that. It's almost winter, so my summer pelt is falling out. Soon, my fur new fur will grow in; my winter pelt, so to speak. It's longer and thicker than my summer pelt, and a good thing, too, if we're going to have any run-ins with orcs on the road. A thick pelt is more likely to catch an arrow, or tangle a blade." She explained.

"But doesn't it hurt to lose your fur?" the hobbit inquired.

" No, but it does itch a great deal. Back at the mountain, during shedding season, all of us move to a camp lower down the mountain side until we stop shedding. Then, when we leave, the dwarves come to gather the old fur, and make it into clothes." She told him.

"You mean kind of how hunters wear the pelts of animals that they killed?" he related.

Dawn shook her pelt, scattering a few hairs on the ground. "Sort of, " she told him," a lesser person may kill game to wear their pelts, but the dwarves figured out long ago that more pelt-coats could be made if they collect fur that has already been shed. A dead animal can give you one coat; a live animal can give you many." She explained.

Soon, they had packed and were ready to journey again. Frost had a chainmail harness on her, and a small pouch on either side containing a small, diamond flask with a crimson juice in it. Nobody in the company knew what the juice was except for Gandalf and the wolves, who said nothing about it, no matter how many times Pippin asked.

After about an hour of walking, Pippin let out a bored sigh. He kicked a pebble around as he walked, looking depressed. Soon, he opened his mouth, and loudly announced that he was bored to death.

"Come here, Pippin, " Dawn told him," and I will tell you about the wolves of Erebor. "

The young hobbit was happy to oblige. Hobbits loved to hear stories, among other things, and they were very fond of customs and family trees. He walked next to the wolf with the other hobbits close around, and Legolas couldn't help but listen in as he walked.

" Now, where I come from, the wolves of the pack all have two names. One name is in the language of our kind, the other is a translation of that name in Common Tongue, for when we have dealings with those on two legs. My name in your language is 'Rising Dawn', though to the members of my pack I am known as _Mythririal_. My Mother is known as 'Swift River', or_ Iralad_. "

" It sounds an awful lot like Ancient Elvish." Legolas could not help putting in.

" It isn't elvish, but it is ancient. Well, an ancient language renewed and re-found, anyway. It's Old Wolf, the lost language of my kind. When wolves came to Erebor, they found old bones that had been carved upon not by man, dwarf, or elf, but by the teeth of a wolf. That was over three-thousand years ago, after the Third Great Long Cold of the Dire Wolves." She told him.

"Long Cold? What's that mean?" Merry asked her.

" A dark time for my species. An endless winter. A famine that kills all things and ruins all lands. There have been three of them so far, but none since the Dire Wolves moved to Erebor. My kind were much larger back then, almost as big as wargs, and we were known as Dire Wolves, a species thought extinct. And those on two legs were thought extinct to us then, and were known as 'Others'. We knew not that there were things such as dwarves, or elves, or men, or hobbits." She explained

" After the first Long Cold, we migrated across a frozen sea to a land known as The Beyond. There was a ring of five volcanoes in that land, and near each volcano was a cairn of bones. Wolves born with deformities leapt from these cairns, watching, always watching the volcanoes, for there was a powerful magic ember in one of them, and should anyone with an evil heart obtain it, it would mean woe for all species. The name of the ember was 'The Ember of Hoole'. as far as I understood the language of Old Wolf, 'Hoole' meant 'owl'. It is said that owls would dive into the volcano to try to get the ember, but only two in history ever succeeded. The owls, believe it or not, were much like men. They were still owls of course, but they knew how to work with fire, and a forge. They made metal claws that slipped over their talons for time of war. Of course, one would see it as a ridicules notion these days. Owls working with a forge." She told them.

" So what happened? Why did the wolves leave the Beyond, if it was so perfect a home?" Pippin inquired eagerly.

Dawn turned to him, her face grim set. "What do you think? The Long Cold." She said.

The hobbits leaned in as they walked eager to continue the story. "The second Great Long Cold of the Dire Wolves. Soon, the winter lengthened. It snowed in summer. The prey tried to migrate, but could not find its way. Soon the caribou died out. Then the moose never returned, and the lichen eaters had all but disappeared. Soon, a famine wiped out much of the life in the Beyond. And then, at last, the final blow was dealt. A great earthquake soon the Beyond to the ground, swallowing all who fell to it. The quake loosed the glacier, and the ring of volcanoes fell to both the glacier, and the quake. Very few survived that day. A total of nine was all that was left of the great wolves, though many vile outcasts survived." She described.

" The nine wolves were joined by two bears and an owl, and later on by two bald eagles. Together, they made a journey across a frozen sea, back to where they had come from. They called it The Distant Blue, for when the wolf that led them had first set eyes upon it, it was but only a blue haze across the frozen sea. They went on, hoping above hope that the Blue was not just another broken land or vast sea. Across a bridge of ice they marched, through blizzards and sheer winds. Narwhales from the deep of the ocean helped them on their journey across the ice floes, guiding them with the help of a young pup named Abban, the first Sea-Wolf. He had fallen into the ocean depths earlier on in the journey, and when he came out, he was not the same. He spoke in riddles and rhymes for a great deal of their remaining journey. But he knew about the sea, and could communicate with the creatures of the deep." She continued.

" Are there many songs among your kind about the journey?" Legolas asked.

"Yes," Dawn told him," I believe there are quit a few songs from the time of the Second Ice March. I think Frost remembers one or two. I never had a head for remembering songs. Perhaps she could treat you all to one, though we wolves usually howl our songs instead of singing."

" Well, Frost? Can you sing us a song?" Frodo asked the white she-wolf.

Frost gave him a wolfish smile, and said, "Very well, Frodo. Perhaps a song of the Ice March can help us gather courage, for though our journeys have different purposes, they are very similar."

And the she-wolf began to sing softly.

_Across the ice we march, a journey with no hope_

_We know not where we go, nor what we shall find_

_A broken land? One out of time?_

_We care not to doubt, so across the bridge of ice we lope._

_To the Distant Blue we march, the Beyond is now behind_

_Gone is the glacier, the mountain peak_

_Gone is the Ring of Fire we leapt_

_Across the Frozen Sea we march, for the good of all our kind._

_Where is the wolf and the pup?_

_Where are the birds and the bees?_

_Where did the moose and the caribou go?_

_When will the great famine end?_

_Across the bridge of ice we march, to where we do not know_

_Across the frozen sea we leap, now from floe to floe_

_Yet always we will ask ourselves; where is it that we go?_

" That was nice. Do you think people will make up songs about _our_ journey?" Pippin wondered.

" Perhaps. Which reminds me, during my journey to Rivendell, me and my fellow companions numbered six. The other three we left about a few hours journey from here. I will need to send them back to the mountain to inform my pack of what has happened, and to be ready to run for any event that may require their assistance." Dawn said.

She bounded ahead of them to speak with Gandalf, leaving them with Frost. After a while, Merry spoke up. " Hey, Frost? How do the wolves remember what happened so long ago if they can't write anything down? "

Frost's muzzle twitched in amusement. " That," she explained," is one of the most frequently asked questions by most people that cross paths with a wolf of Erebor. We gnaw carvings into bones that tell stories, record journeys, so forth. The wolves that carve the bones are called Gnaw Wolves, and their skill are legendary. In the ancient days of the Beyond, gnaw wolves were wolves with deformities, and were the subjects of torture and scrutiny of the entire pack. Now they are as important as any member of the pack."

They walked on for quite a while, until they came to a boulder field at the base of the mountains. "We'll camp here for the night." Aragorn called back when he returned from scouting ahead.

As they unpacked and got the fire ready, however, a harsh, age-cracked voice sounded from atop a nearby b high boulder.

"What are you doing here, and why have you come?"

**Yes, This is a little bit of a crossover with Wolves of the Beyond, and there are creepy dreams in the best fics. And yes, I know that technically, Elves don't get nightmares like that, but I just had to have something to spice this fic up a bit. r and r**


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